


backrubs and citron kisses

by 10softbot



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Comfort Reading, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/10softbot
Summary: Johnny absolutely hates being sick.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 22
Kudos: 242





	backrubs and citron kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taeyongseo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeyongseo/gifts).



> or, a comfort fic for my currently sick girlfriend. i hope you enjoy, baby, and get well soon 🥺💓

There aren’t many things in life Johnny can say he hates. He tries to think of himself as a positive person, as someone fun to be around with, someone who will do anything in his power to make others feel good and to see them happy. Johnny, however, is nothing like that when he is sick.

He hates being sick.

He hates the feeling of not being able to get off bed, how stuffy his entire head feels, hates having a runny nose and a sore throat and sore limbs. It usually only lasts for a couple days, a week at most, but there’s no doubt those are the worst days of his entire existence, every single time. This time, it is no different.

His trash bin, pulled up to his bed and now sitting in front of his nightstand, is almost filled to the brim with used tissues. It’s gross, he knows, but he has no strength in his body to get off bed to empty it out. Maybe he will do it once his stomach feels too empty and he has absolutely no other choice than to drag himself from his bedroom to the kitchen to hunt for food.

Sometimes he wishes he didn’t live on his own.

Johnny also hates cancelling out on plans, especially when it is last minute. He doesn’t like when people do it to him and he despises doing it to others, but it’s not something he can help when the flu hit him like an eight-wheeler overnight without previous notice. When his phone starts ringing and Taeyong’s name shows up on his screen, Johnny knows he’s fucked up.

 _“Hey,”_ Taeyong’s voice chirps from the other side. _“Are you getting ready?”_

Johnny looks down at himself, still in his pajamas and nose probably red from excessive rubbing, face more than likely bloated from sickness – he hasn’t bothered to look at himself in the mirror yet. He looks up at the ceiling then, chest hurting as he coughs right into the receiver.

“Yeah, no,” he groans as he rolls on his side, eyes slipping shut as he tries to focus on not making his everything hurt. “I don’t think I can make it today, babe.”

 _“Oh no,”_ there is the sound of something dropping at the other end of the line, and it rings loudly in Johnny’s head. There is worry lacing his voice, and Johnny wishes he could kiss it away from him. _“What happened? Are you sick?”_

He thinks to laugh, but the noise that comes out of his mouth is anything but a laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

 _“Have you eaten today?”_ there is rustling now, a curse and a hiss at the noise of wood being knocked into, and if Johnny keeps his eyes shut for a little longer he can almost see Taeyong fretting around his apartment. _“Have you taken any medicine? Are you drinking water?”_

“Yes to the last one,” he opens one eye to glare at his almost empty water bottle from the night before. “Yongie, don’t worry too much about it. it’s just a cold.”

 _“You know I love you,”_ Johnny can hear Taeyong’s house keys rattle against the kitchen counter, _“but you sound like absolute death. Give me twenty and I’ll be right there.”_

Johnny barely manages to breathe out an _I love you_ before Taeyong hangs up on him. He sighs, stuffs his phone under his pillow and closes his eyes again, hoping to squeeze in a short nap before Taeyong gets there.

When his front door clicks shut, Johnny can’t tell how much time has passed. It might have been the twenty minutes Taeyong had promised, might have been more as well as less than that – he wouldn’t be able to tell past the fog in his brain. He can hear Taeyong dropping his keys at the coffee table, can hear his old floorboards creaking under his feet as he makes his way to his room.

Johnny barely manages to open his eyes as he shows up at his bedroom door, looking like he just ran a marathon.

“Why did you run,” he huffs out, a small pout on his lips. “I’m not terminally ill, you could’ve taken your time.”

“I missed the bus,” Taeyong rests his weight against the doorframe, clearly out of breath. “Then the cashier at the convenience store was out of change, and I didn’t bring my card with me, so I had to wait for them to figure it out. Did you know your elevator is broken?”

Johnny chuckles, nodding his head lightly. It almost feels like his brain rattles in his skull when he does so, and he winces as snot makes his sinuses hurt. Taeyong crosses the room, sits by his side on his bed and brings a hand to his forehead, like he is a human thermometer.

The pout that blooms on his lips is the cutest, and Johnny wishes he could kiss him right now.

“You don’t seem to have a fever,” Taeyong nods, mostly to himself. “But you really don’t look your best.”

“You flatter me, babe,” Johnny playfully says, laughing when his pout grows deeper.

“I’ll fix you something to eat,” Taeyong pats right cheek lightly, a soft smile replacing his pout. “Take a nap until I’m back.”

He really doesn’t need to be told twice. The moment Taeyong gets off his bed, he easily succumbs to sleep despite how gross he feels. As much as he doesn’t want to get Taeyong sick as well, he feels grateful to have someone caring for him, to have someone love him even at his absolute worst.

It is always like this. In the two years they have been together as more than friends, Taeyong always goes above and beyond whenever Johnny falls sick. It has been like this since before, truthfully, and Johnny has always found endearing how attentive and dedicated he is whenever his loved ones fall sick.

Johnny is absolutely in love with Taeyong’s nurturing nature.

He wakes up when his bed dips, and as he opens his eyes, he is greeted with the image of Taeyong gently placing a tray on the free space of his bed. He runs his fingers through Johnny’s hair, brushes it away from his face and Johnny does his best to smile at him. When he presses his lips against Johnny’s forehead, Johnny can feel stickiness on them, and it makes him scrunch his nose at him.

“It’s honey,” he says with a light laugh, pointing at the tray. “I made you some tea. There’s also soup because you need to eat.”

Johnny swears he can feel his eyes shape into hearts. “What would I do without you.”

“Perish, probably,” they both laugh, mostly because it’s true.

He sits up to eat, and while he can barely taste anything on his tongue, he knows this is the best thing he will have for the remainders of his sick days. Taeyong entertains him with chatter, updates him on the events of the weekend and the insanity Doyoung is going through with his doctorate experiments. Johnny can almost hear their bickering through Taeyong’s bouts of laughter.

It almost feels like witchcraft, the way he already starts feeling better. He knows it is just in his head because the pressure on his face and his chest is still strong, his nose still running embarrassingly quickly as he brings the tea mug to his lips. He can taste the citron and the honey, and if he closes his eyes for a split second he can feel himself kissing Taeyong’s lips.

Taeyong urges him to lie down again and Johnny easily obliges, laying on his side so he can look up at him. Taeyong’s hand is warm when he presses it against his back, rubbing it comfortingly as he tells him he’s going to be okay. Johnny allows his eyes to slip shut, Taeyong’s voice lulling him back to sleep.

Johnny hates being sick, but if it can get him Taeyong to shower him with utmost love, then he will learn how to deal with it.


End file.
